Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Follow-up
I feel like I should follow-up on last night's post to clarify what's going on and so as not to put anyone in an unfair light. Here's the recent history of Cherise and me:
A little over three months ago, Cherise came to Lancaster for a three-month contract that was to end today, December 30th. Before she got here I remember thinking to myself that I was interested to see her, since I hadn't seen her face-to-face since March 2007: a year and a half ago. During that interval we did keep in touch, admittedly most of the time because she would reach out to me, and not as often the other way around.
A significant point in our time apart was just this past June, on her birthday. I was working at the time, but there was a lot of downtime that day. I spent the whole day thinking about her, and I made a list of the things about her that make me love her, along with a list of things that concern me as potential impediments to a future relationship. Of the latter, I didn't think that there was anything that couldn't be fixed or addressed, as long as we really committed to each other one day, namely in marriage. But at that time, Cherise was in the middle of a 7-month contract on a cruise ship around the world. So I never shared my thoughts with her.
Fast-forward to right before she got to Lancaster three months ago. I was at a point where I really wanted a relationship with someone. As I said, I was very interested and a bit excited to see Cherise, but I focused on keeping my expectations modest: I just wanted to see what my gut told me the moment I saw her face-to-face.
As fate would have it, only days before Cherise landed at Philadelphia International Airport, I went out one night on the town with my really good friend, Corey, and my sister, Jessica. That night I met a girl named Diana. My first impression was that I was really attracted to her. And after exchanging numbers that night we met, beginning the next day she showered me with attention. It was something that I really liked. Even besides that, I liked her for two big reasons: she lived in Philly and she spoke Spanish pretty well. Stepping back, I know that distance was the undoing of Cherise and me that led to me breaking up with her. And a part of me always wondered if my cultural background was so core to my sense of self that I needed to be with someone who was Latina or at least spoke Spanish.
Diana had entered the picture at a key moment. After several days of amazing attention from Diana, Cherise was flying into PHL, and she had asked me to meet her there, which I still very much wanted to do. For better or for worse, though, my mindset was not as open-minded as it would have been had I not met Diana. And this has implications for why I'm feeling so hurt that Cherise is refusing to spend New Year's Eve with me, and instead told me that she's not breaking plans that she made at least a month ago with a 25 year-old kid from New York (who she met, incidentally, years ago on a flight from Long Beach, California back to Philly to be with me).
For the first month that Cherise was here, I saw her two, maybe three, times. Each time I was very distant and aloof. My mind was on Diana. It's important to note, though, that Cherise asked me to consider moving out to Los Angeles to live and be with her; I rejected that idea out of hand. But the point is that she came to Lancaster to be near me and see if we could start a relationship again. The timing, unfortunately I would say, was off.
I did very little to reach out to Cherise from the time she got to Lancaster until Election Day, when I left on my three-week trip to southeast Asia: a whole month where I did little if anything to initiate communication, but instead focused on my blossoming relationship with Diana. I thought I was doing the right thing; I liked all the positive attention that I was getting and I was happy to reciprocate.
But, looking back, I think that knowing that I was leaving made me speed things up with Diana, where I really should've taken it much slower to be sure that I was beginning things with the right person. While I was in southeast Asia, I emailed Diana every single day of my trip. But certain thoughts and self-reflections, which I won't get into here, made me begin to realize, at the deepest levels within me, that I wasn't ready for or interested in a serious relationship with her. It took me returning to Philly, seeing Diana face-to-face again, and the first few days of downtime back here at home to really comprehend that I couldn't pursue a relationship with her. I felt terrible for that mistake, because I didn't want to hurt Diana, but I knew that I had to back out then, because I wasn't going to live a fraud.
I came back to Philly only a few days before Thanksgiving. I remember that I had mentioned to Cherise before she got here on the East Coast that she could spend Thanksgiving with my family; I remember that on Thanksgiving that I thought about her a lot, but I didn't invite her because I was too guilty since I was still in the difficult process of talking to Diana and expressing my change of heart to her. But deep down, I really wished that Cherise had been with me for Thanksgiving; that was probably a mistake on part to not be more communicative and invite her.
Only a week later I celebrated my birthday, on December 5th. Cherise was the very first person, among all my friends and family, to wish me a happy birthday. It made me feel happy to hear from her. Metaphorically, it was like she was knocking on the door again, and this time I was prepared and happy to begin slowly opening the door. We began talking and hanging out consistently from then until now. So of course long-buried feelings were uncovered, or at least I can say that for me they were (not to say that she didn't have feelings, but I'm trying to be careful not to make assumptions unless she explicitly said or did something).
So here's where I have to back-up. Early in her contract, Cherise tore her calf muscle. She didn't call me to tell me about it; and I was really calling her because I was busy with Diana. Since I didn't know what happened, I couldn't act on what I didn't know and show my caring and concern for her. But by that point she had already met some other guys, three that she told me of, that were showing her attention. Looking at this situation objectively, neither one of us was doing anything wrong; we were both single and we were seeing other people.
But I feel like Cherise is punishing me now for not being there for her at the beginning of her contract, even though we were both single and had no obligation to each other. And I think she loves me, but she'd prefer to be in a relationship that she has complete control over: she's 30 years old and surely has the control over the 25 year-old. And I think that stems from her fear of being hurt again by me: that I would let her down or break up with her again.
As it relates to my current predicament with Cherise, my timing with Diana was really unfortunate. But I say that it took that short relationship, and the opportunity to step back from the situation on my trip to southeast Asia, that made me begin to realize and even start to accept that I still love Cherise and that I'd like to spend the rest of my life with her. Can I be faulted for the events that led me to that conclusion? Should I be punished for coming to my senses? You tell me.
So here's how this created Cherise's rejection of me for New Year's Eve. Back at least a month ago, the 25 year-old kid asked Cherise to promise to spend New Year's Eve with him; she promised him that she would. She told me that she would not break her promise to him, especially since he made the effort to visit her when she was on crutches from the torn calf muscle and had visited her (at least one more time that I know of) while she was out in Lancaster.
This has totally broken my heart because the way I look at it, she's choosing him over me. But if I step back, she was single (and thus had no obligation to me) when she began spending time with him and made the promise to spend New Year's Eve with him. In an abstract sense, I really can't blame her honor for refusing to break a promise.
But here's the real problem: now I fear that I have no chance with her. I'm scared to take a risk to show her that I want to begin a committed, exclusive relationship with her, one that will eventually lead to marriage.
I did my best to overcome that fear by going out to Lancaster yesterday with a dozen long-stem red roses. And before she dropped me off at the Lancaster train station against my will, I showed her the gold necklace with the diamond charm that I wanted to give her as a Christmas gift. Although I showed her the necklace, I refused to give it to her, because I felt in the moment that she didn't deserve it; she was telling me to leave because she had plans later that night with someone else. As you can imagine, my imagination began to run amok. And I've been a mess ever since, sad and scared that I lost the chance to be with the woman that I love.
Cherise called me shortly after she had dropped me off to make sure that I was okay. Among other things she said in the short conversation, she told me to have faith. She didn't elaborate on what she meant by that. Then, this morning she sent me a text message saying "Good morning!" A couple hours later, I replied in a text message by saying "I miss you. I'm so sad, it hurts. I wish I was there to see you today." Only a few minutes later, she texted back: "Believe it or not. I miss you too!" And finally, I texted back a couple hours later: "I believe you. That's why we should see each other again while you're here." That was 5:18pm today, right around the time her final show was ending. I haven't heard back from her since.
I just tried calling her a few minutes ago, just before 2am here. She didn't answer and I didn't leave a message. I want her to see that I'm thinking about her, even if she's with someone else right now. In the past, my defensive mechanism is to shut down all lines of communication, refuse to reply to any communication initiated by her, and basically go AWOL. I'm trying to overcome that defensive mechanism because I know that our chances for a real relationship are running out. I know that I have to do my part to change past patterns if we are to start something new.
As much as I still really hurt, I'm somewhat resigned to the fact that Cherise will be with someone else for New Year's Eve. I really, truly hope, though, that she calls me tomorrow to say that she wants to be with me. But I'm not going to bank on it.
What I'm banking on is that she told me to have faith. Once she completes her promise to this guy, I need her to accept my offer to be faithful to her and I need her to promise to be faithful to me. She flies out on January 1st to San Diego for a three-month contract on a cruise ship there. I want to have an exclusive relationship with her beginning immediately when she goes out there. If she promises this to me, then I'll book a ticket right away to go to San Diego on the first flight that I can find. If she loves me, then she'll want a relationship with me, just as she expressed when she saw me again three months ago. As soon as we begin the exclusive relationship, I'll really focus on adding more money to my savings to buy a ring to propose to her before this time next year, if not much sooner.
My biggest fear here is that she'll say that she doesn't want to promise to be faithful or exclusive with me. I simply can't compete with other guys. I've been in the picture (in her life and in her heart, one way or another) for over five years, since September 20, 2003. She should know by now whether she wants to be married to me or not. I'm not going to compete with guys that just entered the picture a few months ago; I'm too tired for competition and I'm not so foolish to chase a woman who wants to play the field.
If she doesn't want to promise to be faithful or exclusive with me first thing after the new year, then I'll have to walk away.
Cherise, if you read this, and if you love me, then please let's just be together.
A little over three months ago, Cherise came to Lancaster for a three-month contract that was to end today, December 30th. Before she got here I remember thinking to myself that I was interested to see her, since I hadn't seen her face-to-face since March 2007: a year and a half ago. During that interval we did keep in touch, admittedly most of the time because she would reach out to me, and not as often the other way around.
A significant point in our time apart was just this past June, on her birthday. I was working at the time, but there was a lot of downtime that day. I spent the whole day thinking about her, and I made a list of the things about her that make me love her, along with a list of things that concern me as potential impediments to a future relationship. Of the latter, I didn't think that there was anything that couldn't be fixed or addressed, as long as we really committed to each other one day, namely in marriage. But at that time, Cherise was in the middle of a 7-month contract on a cruise ship around the world. So I never shared my thoughts with her.
Fast-forward to right before she got to Lancaster three months ago. I was at a point where I really wanted a relationship with someone. As I said, I was very interested and a bit excited to see Cherise, but I focused on keeping my expectations modest: I just wanted to see what my gut told me the moment I saw her face-to-face.
As fate would have it, only days before Cherise landed at Philadelphia International Airport, I went out one night on the town with my really good friend, Corey, and my sister, Jessica. That night I met a girl named Diana. My first impression was that I was really attracted to her. And after exchanging numbers that night we met, beginning the next day she showered me with attention. It was something that I really liked. Even besides that, I liked her for two big reasons: she lived in Philly and she spoke Spanish pretty well. Stepping back, I know that distance was the undoing of Cherise and me that led to me breaking up with her. And a part of me always wondered if my cultural background was so core to my sense of self that I needed to be with someone who was Latina or at least spoke Spanish.
Diana had entered the picture at a key moment. After several days of amazing attention from Diana, Cherise was flying into PHL, and she had asked me to meet her there, which I still very much wanted to do. For better or for worse, though, my mindset was not as open-minded as it would have been had I not met Diana. And this has implications for why I'm feeling so hurt that Cherise is refusing to spend New Year's Eve with me, and instead told me that she's not breaking plans that she made at least a month ago with a 25 year-old kid from New York (who she met, incidentally, years ago on a flight from Long Beach, California back to Philly to be with me).
For the first month that Cherise was here, I saw her two, maybe three, times. Each time I was very distant and aloof. My mind was on Diana. It's important to note, though, that Cherise asked me to consider moving out to Los Angeles to live and be with her; I rejected that idea out of hand. But the point is that she came to Lancaster to be near me and see if we could start a relationship again. The timing, unfortunately I would say, was off.
I did very little to reach out to Cherise from the time she got to Lancaster until Election Day, when I left on my three-week trip to southeast Asia: a whole month where I did little if anything to initiate communication, but instead focused on my blossoming relationship with Diana. I thought I was doing the right thing; I liked all the positive attention that I was getting and I was happy to reciprocate.
But, looking back, I think that knowing that I was leaving made me speed things up with Diana, where I really should've taken it much slower to be sure that I was beginning things with the right person. While I was in southeast Asia, I emailed Diana every single day of my trip. But certain thoughts and self-reflections, which I won't get into here, made me begin to realize, at the deepest levels within me, that I wasn't ready for or interested in a serious relationship with her. It took me returning to Philly, seeing Diana face-to-face again, and the first few days of downtime back here at home to really comprehend that I couldn't pursue a relationship with her. I felt terrible for that mistake, because I didn't want to hurt Diana, but I knew that I had to back out then, because I wasn't going to live a fraud.
I came back to Philly only a few days before Thanksgiving. I remember that I had mentioned to Cherise before she got here on the East Coast that she could spend Thanksgiving with my family; I remember that on Thanksgiving that I thought about her a lot, but I didn't invite her because I was too guilty since I was still in the difficult process of talking to Diana and expressing my change of heart to her. But deep down, I really wished that Cherise had been with me for Thanksgiving; that was probably a mistake on part to not be more communicative and invite her.
Only a week later I celebrated my birthday, on December 5th. Cherise was the very first person, among all my friends and family, to wish me a happy birthday. It made me feel happy to hear from her. Metaphorically, it was like she was knocking on the door again, and this time I was prepared and happy to begin slowly opening the door. We began talking and hanging out consistently from then until now. So of course long-buried feelings were uncovered, or at least I can say that for me they were (not to say that she didn't have feelings, but I'm trying to be careful not to make assumptions unless she explicitly said or did something).
So here's where I have to back-up. Early in her contract, Cherise tore her calf muscle. She didn't call me to tell me about it; and I was really calling her because I was busy with Diana. Since I didn't know what happened, I couldn't act on what I didn't know and show my caring and concern for her. But by that point she had already met some other guys, three that she told me of, that were showing her attention. Looking at this situation objectively, neither one of us was doing anything wrong; we were both single and we were seeing other people.
But I feel like Cherise is punishing me now for not being there for her at the beginning of her contract, even though we were both single and had no obligation to each other. And I think she loves me, but she'd prefer to be in a relationship that she has complete control over: she's 30 years old and surely has the control over the 25 year-old. And I think that stems from her fear of being hurt again by me: that I would let her down or break up with her again.
As it relates to my current predicament with Cherise, my timing with Diana was really unfortunate. But I say that it took that short relationship, and the opportunity to step back from the situation on my trip to southeast Asia, that made me begin to realize and even start to accept that I still love Cherise and that I'd like to spend the rest of my life with her. Can I be faulted for the events that led me to that conclusion? Should I be punished for coming to my senses? You tell me.
So here's how this created Cherise's rejection of me for New Year's Eve. Back at least a month ago, the 25 year-old kid asked Cherise to promise to spend New Year's Eve with him; she promised him that she would. She told me that she would not break her promise to him, especially since he made the effort to visit her when she was on crutches from the torn calf muscle and had visited her (at least one more time that I know of) while she was out in Lancaster.
This has totally broken my heart because the way I look at it, she's choosing him over me. But if I step back, she was single (and thus had no obligation to me) when she began spending time with him and made the promise to spend New Year's Eve with him. In an abstract sense, I really can't blame her honor for refusing to break a promise.
But here's the real problem: now I fear that I have no chance with her. I'm scared to take a risk to show her that I want to begin a committed, exclusive relationship with her, one that will eventually lead to marriage.
I did my best to overcome that fear by going out to Lancaster yesterday with a dozen long-stem red roses. And before she dropped me off at the Lancaster train station against my will, I showed her the gold necklace with the diamond charm that I wanted to give her as a Christmas gift. Although I showed her the necklace, I refused to give it to her, because I felt in the moment that she didn't deserve it; she was telling me to leave because she had plans later that night with someone else. As you can imagine, my imagination began to run amok. And I've been a mess ever since, sad and scared that I lost the chance to be with the woman that I love.
Cherise called me shortly after she had dropped me off to make sure that I was okay. Among other things she said in the short conversation, she told me to have faith. She didn't elaborate on what she meant by that. Then, this morning she sent me a text message saying "Good morning!" A couple hours later, I replied in a text message by saying "I miss you. I'm so sad, it hurts. I wish I was there to see you today." Only a few minutes later, she texted back: "Believe it or not. I miss you too!" And finally, I texted back a couple hours later: "I believe you. That's why we should see each other again while you're here." That was 5:18pm today, right around the time her final show was ending. I haven't heard back from her since.
I just tried calling her a few minutes ago, just before 2am here. She didn't answer and I didn't leave a message. I want her to see that I'm thinking about her, even if she's with someone else right now. In the past, my defensive mechanism is to shut down all lines of communication, refuse to reply to any communication initiated by her, and basically go AWOL. I'm trying to overcome that defensive mechanism because I know that our chances for a real relationship are running out. I know that I have to do my part to change past patterns if we are to start something new.
As much as I still really hurt, I'm somewhat resigned to the fact that Cherise will be with someone else for New Year's Eve. I really, truly hope, though, that she calls me tomorrow to say that she wants to be with me. But I'm not going to bank on it.
What I'm banking on is that she told me to have faith. Once she completes her promise to this guy, I need her to accept my offer to be faithful to her and I need her to promise to be faithful to me. She flies out on January 1st to San Diego for a three-month contract on a cruise ship there. I want to have an exclusive relationship with her beginning immediately when she goes out there. If she promises this to me, then I'll book a ticket right away to go to San Diego on the first flight that I can find. If she loves me, then she'll want a relationship with me, just as she expressed when she saw me again three months ago. As soon as we begin the exclusive relationship, I'll really focus on adding more money to my savings to buy a ring to propose to her before this time next year, if not much sooner.
My biggest fear here is that she'll say that she doesn't want to promise to be faithful or exclusive with me. I simply can't compete with other guys. I've been in the picture (in her life and in her heart, one way or another) for over five years, since September 20, 2003. She should know by now whether she wants to be married to me or not. I'm not going to compete with guys that just entered the picture a few months ago; I'm too tired for competition and I'm not so foolish to chase a woman who wants to play the field.
If she doesn't want to promise to be faithful or exclusive with me first thing after the new year, then I'll have to walk away.
Cherise, if you read this, and if you love me, then please let's just be together.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Facebook status update
i'm tryin to get up so don't you get me down. life, i love ya, now gimme a pound.
Bad episode
I had a really bad night tonight. One of the worst nights that I've had in a long time.
I went to a bar to try to drink it off. Really immature, I know. But I just wanted to drink myself into a stupor. It didn't exactly work, as you can see since I'm still awake and typing into the blog right now. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised since I could barely sleep at all last night.
Earlier today, I went out to Lancaster to try to lay it all on the line for my ex-girlfriend. I've realized that I still really love her, and I'd like to spend the rest of my life with her. But she drove me against my will to the train station at the end of her first show, telling me that another guy was coming in at around 2am tonight to visit her. My heart was totally ripped to shreds. And to add injury upon injury, she insists that she has plans to be with another guy, a 25 year-old kid, on New Year's Eve.
I brought her 12 long-stem red roses to her show today. I guess it doesn't matter, though, when someone doesn't love you. I give up. I'm not going to compete against other guys, especially kids.
I pray to God that there is someone out there for me. Someone who will not push me away. Someone who will express her emotions to me. By that I mean: someone who will not turn cold on me at any hint of conflict or difficulty. I want someone who is affectionate toward me. Someone who loves me for my passion; not someone who makes fun of me for it.
I tried to drink myself into oblivion tonight; it didn't work. It's nearly 3am right now. I know that Cherise is with a guy right now. That guy is in her bedrooom right this very second. I wish I was drunk. I wish I could cease existing for the next week or so.
I went to a bar to try to drink it off. Really immature, I know. But I just wanted to drink myself into a stupor. It didn't exactly work, as you can see since I'm still awake and typing into the blog right now. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised since I could barely sleep at all last night.
Earlier today, I went out to Lancaster to try to lay it all on the line for my ex-girlfriend. I've realized that I still really love her, and I'd like to spend the rest of my life with her. But she drove me against my will to the train station at the end of her first show, telling me that another guy was coming in at around 2am tonight to visit her. My heart was totally ripped to shreds. And to add injury upon injury, she insists that she has plans to be with another guy, a 25 year-old kid, on New Year's Eve.
I brought her 12 long-stem red roses to her show today. I guess it doesn't matter, though, when someone doesn't love you. I give up. I'm not going to compete against other guys, especially kids.
I pray to God that there is someone out there for me. Someone who will not push me away. Someone who will express her emotions to me. By that I mean: someone who will not turn cold on me at any hint of conflict or difficulty. I want someone who is affectionate toward me. Someone who loves me for my passion; not someone who makes fun of me for it.
I tried to drink myself into oblivion tonight; it didn't work. It's nearly 3am right now. I know that Cherise is with a guy right now. That guy is in her bedrooom right this very second. I wish I was drunk. I wish I could cease existing for the next week or so.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Tea with honey
I'm drinking a cup of Salada tea with 100% desert Mesquite honey. The reason: I've been sick for the past couple of days. Though I think it's breaking now: yesterday was a lot of sneezing and a lot of clear, runny mucus; today was thicker mucus in the morning and now more of just a dry cough with a little congestion.
Why am I sick? Superficially, the yo-yo temperature changes on a day-to-day basis is not helpful. Also, on a few occasions over the past week (especially last Friday night on Washington Street in Hoboken and last Saturday night in Philly's Gayborhood), I was definitely under-dressed: wearing a blazer when I should've been wearing a winter coat.
In most cases, though, I could probably get away with all of that, being the healthy guy that I am. So the deeper reason for getting sick, I think, has to do with my primary frustration these days: being unemployed. I figured that I would've had a job by this amount of time after my SE Asia trip. But due to the bleak job market, and some unfortunate timing, I'm out of a job right before the holidays. The stress from this situation finally wore me down this past week. I had a lead that I thought would materialize this past Monday (in a meeting with JuriStaff), but it was an opportunity that faded quickly. To hit the nail on the head, I can say that the disappointment - and even anger and depression - that resulted from that let-down was the true cause of my cold.
Not unrelated, though, is another byproduct of my unemployment. Being without a job means spending an inordinate amount of time at home (i.e., all day everyday). Because I've never been so good at dusting around the apartment, I think my respiratory system is paying more of a price than usual, thus making me more susceptible to falling ill. So I dusted some (certainly not all) of the apartment earlier tonight. I hope to motivate myself to do some more dusting tomorrow.
So that's that. I'd appreciate any prayers or well wishes that you could send my way. But I feel better tonight than I did last night. Hopefully tomorrow will be the last day of feeling sick so that I can start fresh on Monday. Yesterday I just paid to re-join my gym, so I'd like to get in there on Monday for the first time since very early November. And I hope to start the new week with an eager and optimistic approach to getting a gig as soon as possible. And to have a generally happy state-of-being for the holidays.
For tonight I'll enjoy my tea with honey, which I just happened to finish right now!
Why am I sick? Superficially, the yo-yo temperature changes on a day-to-day basis is not helpful. Also, on a few occasions over the past week (especially last Friday night on Washington Street in Hoboken and last Saturday night in Philly's Gayborhood), I was definitely under-dressed: wearing a blazer when I should've been wearing a winter coat.
In most cases, though, I could probably get away with all of that, being the healthy guy that I am. So the deeper reason for getting sick, I think, has to do with my primary frustration these days: being unemployed. I figured that I would've had a job by this amount of time after my SE Asia trip. But due to the bleak job market, and some unfortunate timing, I'm out of a job right before the holidays. The stress from this situation finally wore me down this past week. I had a lead that I thought would materialize this past Monday (in a meeting with JuriStaff), but it was an opportunity that faded quickly. To hit the nail on the head, I can say that the disappointment - and even anger and depression - that resulted from that let-down was the true cause of my cold.
Not unrelated, though, is another byproduct of my unemployment. Being without a job means spending an inordinate amount of time at home (i.e., all day everyday). Because I've never been so good at dusting around the apartment, I think my respiratory system is paying more of a price than usual, thus making me more susceptible to falling ill. So I dusted some (certainly not all) of the apartment earlier tonight. I hope to motivate myself to do some more dusting tomorrow.
So that's that. I'd appreciate any prayers or well wishes that you could send my way. But I feel better tonight than I did last night. Hopefully tomorrow will be the last day of feeling sick so that I can start fresh on Monday. Yesterday I just paid to re-join my gym, so I'd like to get in there on Monday for the first time since very early November. And I hope to start the new week with an eager and optimistic approach to getting a gig as soon as possible. And to have a generally happy state-of-being for the holidays.
For tonight I'll enjoy my tea with honey, which I just happened to finish right now!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Bottom of the bag
Popcorn.
I've been eating it with my lunch for the past week.
Today I got to the bottom of the bag.
So I poured out almost all the remaining contents of the bag on to my plate.
A lot of small pieces of popcorn.
Very few intact, full pieces of popcorn.
In order to effectively eat it all, I simply pressed my tongue to the small pieces of popcorn on the plate so that they stuck to my tongue and I could eat them.
I've been eating it with my lunch for the past week.
Today I got to the bottom of the bag.
So I poured out almost all the remaining contents of the bag on to my plate.
A lot of small pieces of popcorn.
Very few intact, full pieces of popcorn.
In order to effectively eat it all, I simply pressed my tongue to the small pieces of popcorn on the plate so that they stuck to my tongue and I could eat them.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Bring back the home-cooked meal
"Those most vulnerable to obesity are those who frequently eat out," said Gary Foster, head of the Obesity Research Center at Temple University.
I heard that statement while listening to a WHYY news report this morning on 90.1 FM. You can hear the entire news clip by clicking HERE and scrolling down to the headline "Restaurant menus must have labels" with the December 18, 2008 dateline.
I've always been a strong proponent of cooking meals at home. By cooking at home, I know exactly what is going into my body, because I'm the one that buys the meal's ingredients and then prepares the meal. Growing up in a household where my mother (or sometimes my father) prepared a home-cooked meal every single night, I valued the importance of a well-rounded meal. I remember that every dinner included one meat (or, every once in a while, seafood), one grain (usually rice or pasta), and at least one vegetable. We rarely drank soda. And we rarely ordered out; we might get pizza or Chinese food about once, maybe twice, a month.
Conversely, I'm generally opposed to eating out. Even on nights when I'm tired from working all day or have little to choose from other than macaroni and cheese, I'll still usually choose to cook my own dinner, rather than eating out or ordering in. Ideally, I would eat out at a healthy, reasonably-priced restaurant once per week or every 10 days.
We live in a culture in which too many people have lost sight of the benefits of preparing their own meals and eating in the comfort of their own home. Our culture has placed too much emphasis on outsourcing everything to others so as to do as little as possible for ourselves, as well as on the perceived social prestige of eating out. I'd rather eat healthy and save money for doing it, than worry about showing off for others while paying more money for my laziness.
I heard that statement while listening to a WHYY news report this morning on 90.1 FM. You can hear the entire news clip by clicking HERE and scrolling down to the headline "Restaurant menus must have labels" with the December 18, 2008 dateline.
I've always been a strong proponent of cooking meals at home. By cooking at home, I know exactly what is going into my body, because I'm the one that buys the meal's ingredients and then prepares the meal. Growing up in a household where my mother (or sometimes my father) prepared a home-cooked meal every single night, I valued the importance of a well-rounded meal. I remember that every dinner included one meat (or, every once in a while, seafood), one grain (usually rice or pasta), and at least one vegetable. We rarely drank soda. And we rarely ordered out; we might get pizza or Chinese food about once, maybe twice, a month.
Conversely, I'm generally opposed to eating out. Even on nights when I'm tired from working all day or have little to choose from other than macaroni and cheese, I'll still usually choose to cook my own dinner, rather than eating out or ordering in. Ideally, I would eat out at a healthy, reasonably-priced restaurant once per week or every 10 days.
We live in a culture in which too many people have lost sight of the benefits of preparing their own meals and eating in the comfort of their own home. Our culture has placed too much emphasis on outsourcing everything to others so as to do as little as possible for ourselves, as well as on the perceived social prestige of eating out. I'd rather eat healthy and save money for doing it, than worry about showing off for others while paying more money for my laziness.
Unrealistic reaction
Here in the United States, there has been a television advertisement on the major national networks for Toyota. It features their promotion for the "Toyotathon of Toyotathons."
Throughout the commercial, a guy in a tan jacket is going around town placing a sticker that reads "of Toyotathons" on all the already-existing signs and billboards that read "Toyotathon." The point, presumably, is to advertise that this sale is going to be the mother of all sales for Toyota products.
Well, at the very end of the commercial, there is a shot of a woman reading a newspaper, and she's holding it up in front of her face. On the back page of the newspaper is a print ad with the bold and easily-legible title: "Toyotathon". The guy in the tan jacket briskly places one of his stickers directly on to her newspaper, then quickly disappears out of the camera shot, ostensibly to walk away quickly to continue his task of placing stickers elsewhere. And the woman reacts by turning the back page toward her and then tilting her head to see what was placed on her newspaper. And nothing else!
My point is this: what kind of reaction is this??? Does this not seem unnatural to you? If someone abruptly touched something that I was holding in my hands and then walked away quickly, I'd look first to see who this stranger was, then I'd quickly look at what was done to the newspaper in my hands, and then I'd look again to get a good look at the suspect.
This woman's reaction was so nonchalant to the point of being completely incredible. And this, in turn, takes away from the veracity of the commercial and, thus, the consumer's trust in this company and its products. It should have come as no surprise, then, that while listening to NPR Morning Report this morning, it was reported that Toyota is forecasting negative growth (an oxymoron) in 2009, the first time this will happen in the company's 70 year history.
And it all started with a stupid commercial.
Throughout the commercial, a guy in a tan jacket is going around town placing a sticker that reads "of Toyotathons" on all the already-existing signs and billboards that read "Toyotathon." The point, presumably, is to advertise that this sale is going to be the mother of all sales for Toyota products.
Well, at the very end of the commercial, there is a shot of a woman reading a newspaper, and she's holding it up in front of her face. On the back page of the newspaper is a print ad with the bold and easily-legible title: "Toyotathon". The guy in the tan jacket briskly places one of his stickers directly on to her newspaper, then quickly disappears out of the camera shot, ostensibly to walk away quickly to continue his task of placing stickers elsewhere. And the woman reacts by turning the back page toward her and then tilting her head to see what was placed on her newspaper. And nothing else!
My point is this: what kind of reaction is this??? Does this not seem unnatural to you? If someone abruptly touched something that I was holding in my hands and then walked away quickly, I'd look first to see who this stranger was, then I'd quickly look at what was done to the newspaper in my hands, and then I'd look again to get a good look at the suspect.
This woman's reaction was so nonchalant to the point of being completely incredible. And this, in turn, takes away from the veracity of the commercial and, thus, the consumer's trust in this company and its products. It should have come as no surprise, then, that while listening to NPR Morning Report this morning, it was reported that Toyota is forecasting negative growth (an oxymoron) in 2009, the first time this will happen in the company's 70 year history.
And it all started with a stupid commercial.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
A small, but not insignificant, accomplishment
Earlier today, for the first time in nearly three months, I finished reading a book. The book was "American Slavery, American Freedom: The Ordeal of Colonial Virginia" by Edmund S. Morgan.
When I chose to read this book, I knew it would take me a while to get through it. History books, even those that are well-written and engaging, tend to be more dense than other sorts of books. Even still, three months to finish a book is atypical of me, and that's not failing to account for the fact that I'm a slow reader.
The author aimed to understand the paradox between slavery and freedom that existed at the time of our nation's founding and that continues in some ways to effect relations among us today. As the author states in the preface, there was an "apparent contradiction between [the colonists'] proclamations of equality and liberty and their continuing possession of slaves," a deep contradiction that "required a civil war because slavery and freedom are irreconcilable opposites."
Reading the book took a long while for reasons both internal and external to the book itself. Internally, the author began his inquiry at a point in history that pre-dated even the European settlement of present-day Virginia, and from there slowly and methodically worked his way through socio-historical developments that eventually led to the American Revolution. This meant that that issue of the enslavement of Americans from Africa was not dealt with directly until the penultimate chapter of the book. I felt a bit misled and this sometimes affected my motivation for reading the book.
Externally, I had the nearly three-week trip to southeast Asia that put any reading effectively on hold. And for the month before the trip, almost all my free time was consumed with dating a girl with whom I'd had high hopes of starting a serious relationship. It was only once I came back from the trip, and soon realized that the prospects of landing another legal project were bleak, that I settled into the idea that I wanted to finish this book once and for all.
So there you have it. I finished my book. And with that, I've made a small, but not insignificant, accomplishment. Psychologically, I feel that I've made progress on something, and I'll certainly take that for what it's worth; it's something to build on. As you can see to the left of this text, I was finally able to add another title to my list of recently-read books.
Now I think I'll take on something a little bit easier to read, perhaps a fiction novel.
When I chose to read this book, I knew it would take me a while to get through it. History books, even those that are well-written and engaging, tend to be more dense than other sorts of books. Even still, three months to finish a book is atypical of me, and that's not failing to account for the fact that I'm a slow reader.
The author aimed to understand the paradox between slavery and freedom that existed at the time of our nation's founding and that continues in some ways to effect relations among us today. As the author states in the preface, there was an "apparent contradiction between [the colonists'] proclamations of equality and liberty and their continuing possession of slaves," a deep contradiction that "required a civil war because slavery and freedom are irreconcilable opposites."
Reading the book took a long while for reasons both internal and external to the book itself. Internally, the author began his inquiry at a point in history that pre-dated even the European settlement of present-day Virginia, and from there slowly and methodically worked his way through socio-historical developments that eventually led to the American Revolution. This meant that that issue of the enslavement of Americans from Africa was not dealt with directly until the penultimate chapter of the book. I felt a bit misled and this sometimes affected my motivation for reading the book.
Externally, I had the nearly three-week trip to southeast Asia that put any reading effectively on hold. And for the month before the trip, almost all my free time was consumed with dating a girl with whom I'd had high hopes of starting a serious relationship. It was only once I came back from the trip, and soon realized that the prospects of landing another legal project were bleak, that I settled into the idea that I wanted to finish this book once and for all.
So there you have it. I finished my book. And with that, I've made a small, but not insignificant, accomplishment. Psychologically, I feel that I've made progress on something, and I'll certainly take that for what it's worth; it's something to build on. As you can see to the left of this text, I was finally able to add another title to my list of recently-read books.
Now I think I'll take on something a little bit easier to read, perhaps a fiction novel.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Extra, extra . . .
. . . read all about it!!!
I've gotta get back to what makes me happy. Or at least one of the things that makes me happy: writing. Being still unemployed, I've had a lot of free time to think lots about a lot of things.
I've been very aware of the open question after my return from southeast Asia: what do I write about now? The same thing happened after I got back from Egypt. Life seems so mundane that it doesn't even warrant writing anything. But that's the superficial assessment. Which simply means that I'm gonna have to dig deeper. Into my brain, into my thoughts, into my heart, into wherever it is that blog entries come from. From post-partum depression to pre-party progression, the time is almost here.
Look for new posts very soon!
I've gotta get back to what makes me happy. Or at least one of the things that makes me happy: writing. Being still unemployed, I've had a lot of free time to think lots about a lot of things.
I've been very aware of the open question after my return from southeast Asia: what do I write about now? The same thing happened after I got back from Egypt. Life seems so mundane that it doesn't even warrant writing anything. But that's the superficial assessment. Which simply means that I'm gonna have to dig deeper. Into my brain, into my thoughts, into my heart, into wherever it is that blog entries come from. From post-partum depression to pre-party progression, the time is almost here.
Look for new posts very soon!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Anne-Sarah
I know it's a little crazy,
but if your memory's kinda hazy,
I'm T___, the guy from Philly.
And although it was a bit silly,
I sent an email to a female
and a couple of guys at your school
to see if I could try to get through
to who I thought was possibly you.
After our long talk on the bus,
I was in such a fuss
that we couldn't keep in touch,
since I lacked at the task
to ask for your information de contact.
So I had to take a chance
to reconnect with the girl from France.
If you ever see yourself
coming to the Illadelph,
then just reply
and say "hi T__, ah, oui c'est vrai!"
but if your memory's kinda hazy,
I'm T___, the guy from Philly.
And although it was a bit silly,
I sent an email to a female
and a couple of guys at your school
to see if I could try to get through
to who I thought was possibly you.
After our long talk on the bus,
I was in such a fuss
that we couldn't keep in touch,
since I lacked at the task
to ask for your information de contact.
So I had to take a chance
to reconnect with the girl from France.
If you ever see yourself
coming to the Illadelph,
then just reply
and say "hi T__, ah, oui c'est vrai!"
Friday, December 5, 2008
Facebook status update
"Come one, come all." If you're in Philly this evening, then join me for a drink at Alma de Cuba at 7pm.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Reflections on TLC
Vapex. For some reason, in Bangkok especially, many men and even some women periodically put a small white plastic tube (similar to Chapstick) into their nose, sniff, and then repeat with the other nostril. Several men that I observed did this obsessively, to the point that I thought it was some kind of narcotic or chemical stimulant. We found out from an 18 year-old American girl who has been living with her mother in Bangkok for over a year now that this practice is meant to open the air passage from the effect of the city smog. She said that a lot of cab drivers use the strong menthol smell kinda like people back here at home use coffee: as a quick jolt to stay awake. In fact, the cabbie that drove us to the Hualamphong train station -- when we made it at the very last minute -- was using the Vapex like a fiend. Here's a pic from a guy on the Chao Phraya Express Boat gettin' his fix:
Volleyball. It seemed that everywhere we went in Cambodia (which was admittedly limited to just the town of Siem Reap and then the road from there to the border town of Poipet), we saw games of volleyball being played. When we first arrived in Siem Reap, we took a walk around town. After crossing a bridge to the other side of the river, we saw a spirited game of volleyball being played. And then on the day we took a taxi to the border (to eventually return to Bangkok), I saw at least two games of volleyball being played out in the Cambodian countryside. It made me wonder how the Cambodian Olympic volleyball team fared in Beijing.
Asian tourists. In my previous trips to Central America, Europe, and Egypt, the great majority of fellow travelers (not that kind, silly) were Europeans. On this trip, it was quite different. Most of the tourists generally -- as opposed to the subgroup of backpackers -- were Asian: from my estimation, they were mostly Korean and Japanese. Of course among the backpacker crowd, the travelers were almost entirely "white," but even here a slim majority may have been Australian as opposed to European. One look at the map or a globe explains this phenomenon. Nevertheless, it was a new experience for me. As a final sidenote, I can count on one hand the number of Americans (i.e., from the USA) that we met on the entire trip. I guess the typical American tourists were all in Cancun or other Americanized neo-colonies: too scared, narrow-minded, or culturally conservative to step outside of their own culture.
Bangkok sidewalks. The transformation of the sidewalks of Bangkok over the course of a night is quite striking. In the normal hours of the night, up to midnight or 1am let's say, the sidewalks are characterized by streetside vendors selling souvenirs, t-shirts, and handicrafts. Besides that, there are handfuls of prostitutes on each block, just standing around waiting to be picked up by middle-aged white guys with lots of American dollars in their wallets. After 1am or 2am, though, as we realized when we took a cab at 4am to get to the airport, the sidewalks turn into a nocturnal, and much rougher-around-the-edges, version of Paris: by that I mean that there are lots of people still out drinking beers and smoking at tables all along the sidewalks. Believe me, this was more than just a couple of tables on one block; this was many tables block after block after block. By virtue of staying active throughout the nighttime hours, Bangkok must be classified as a world city.
Same Same But Different. That was a common phrase that we heard throughout all three countries of our trip. It was used in every situation imaginable. For example, you would ask if a certain dish tasted similar to pad thai, and the waiter would respond, "same same but different." It was funny, but vexing. But the phrase was so common that everywhere we went we saw t-shirts announcing it: "Same Same" on the front, "But Different" on the back. If you look closely, the girl on the right in this photo is wearing the t-shirt:
Prostitution. I guess it should come as no surprise that prostitution was prevalent where there were older, relatively wealthy tourists -- thus, in Bangkok and in Siem Reap, Cambodia. Although I have to admit that some of the prostitutes were quite pleasing to the eye, it didn't take long for me to feel disgusted by the whole scene: rich white guys basically "buying" companionship and sex from young women. But hey, that's capitalism, right? Money talks. I felt pity for most of these guys, who back home probably have no chance to get a beautiful woman. So can I blame them? Yes and no. And I pity the women too, because I wonder how many of them are pursuing any worthwhile goals, like education or an eventual career, while they sell their bodies; probably not too many, unfortunately. The whole situation is just shitty. I also thought of another byproduct: how many beautiful girls in Bangkok -- who are legitimately not prostitutes -- are eyeballed and objectified by old white guys who jump to the conclusion that they must be a whore because they're young and beautiful? Terrible, really terrible.
Ladyboys. Well, as long as we're talking about the openness of sex in parts of southeast Asia, we may as well talk about the openness of sexuality too. This is one thing that I felt was refreshing. For those not in the know, "ladyboys" are basically southeast Asian transvestites: men dressing like and adopting the mannerisms of women. Don't get me wrong, coming from a comparatively sexually-conservative culture like that of the United States, it was a bit weird to see the ladyboys. Here in Philly, it's easy enough to walk down to the Gayborhood and you can see all the transvestites that you'd like. But that's the big difference: here in the U.S. the places that sexual expressiveness is culturally acceptable are quite limited and the boundaries are clear; they're kinda like modern-day ghettoes (in the Jewish sense of the word). In southeast Asia, though, you could see a ladyboy anywhere. For example, the receptionist at our hotel on our first morning in Bangkok was quite androgenous; we really couldn't figure out that person's gender at all. And this openness of sexual expressiveness, without boundaries, was noticeable throughout much of our trip. Being the fan of freedom that I am, I found this facet of southeast Asian culture to be very refreshing and quite advanced of our culture in the United States.
French legacy. Continuing with my smooth segues, I'll dovetail off that last comment about culture in the United States with an observation of the cultural legacy of southeast Asia. In Laos and Cambodia particularly -- formerly colonized by the French -- you can see the lasting influence of French culture. Baguettes and crepes are common. Restaurants have French names. And not only that, but outdoor seating at bistro tables is widespread. And for the first time in my travels, I met a traveler who was French; her name was Anne-Sarah and she was studying law at a university in Can Tho, Vietnam. She was traveling with a group of fellow French students to Vang Vieng and Vientiane. Although the international lingua franca is now most definitely English, it seems that the French enjoy visiting areas that remind them, even a little bit, of home.
Backpacker circuit. Paul and I followed an itinerary that can be described as a big oval: from Bangkok, north to Chiang Mai, east to Luang Prabang, then south to Vang Vieng, Vientiane, Savannakhet, and Pakse, then southwest to Siem Reap, then west back to Bangkok. On the map it makes the most sense to follow this route, especially if doing most of it overland: by bus or train. And apparently we were not the only ones with this approach. When we were in Siem Reap, a girl came up to me at Temple Bar and told me that she remembered seeing me back in Chiang Mai. And from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, we hung out with our Aussie friends, Nick and Josh, and our English friends, John and his girlfriend Jenny. And lastly, the French girl, Anne-Sarah, and her friends were on our minibus from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, and I spent the entire 4-5 hour bus ride from Vang Vieng to Vientiane sitting next to and chatting with Anne-Sarah. The point is that, in southeast Asia, there is definitely a well-worn path which backpackers follow, what I called the "backpacker circuit."
Philly at Angkor Wat. Walking through one of the many temples at Angkor, I saw a Cambodian artist sitting on a rock, painting a picture; he was wearing a Philadelphia Eagles hat. I pointed it out to him and said "I'm from Philadelphia." His response was simply "godson", in the speech of a deaf man. I said, "ahh, your godson lives in Philadelphia," and he nodded his head. Later, as we were about to walk up the long and steep climb to the top of the tallest hill in the area -- where we were gonna watch the sunset -- I saw a guy in his early-20s wearing a red baseball cap. I was almost sure what it was, but I walked closer. Yup, it was a Phillies cap! So I approached him and said, "Phillies!" We talked for a few minutes. He asked me what it was like on the streets of Philadelphia when the Phillies won the World Series, he said he missed it because he was already in southeast Asia, I told him that it was mass joyful chaos, and I described the scene from Market Street and along Broad Street from that night. The guy said he lived in Northeast Philly. It was cool to see -- not once, but twice in one day -- Philadelphia being represented halfway around the world. Three cheers for the Two-Fifteen!
The Roots. Finally, speaking of Philly represent, I was at Temple Bar in Siem Reap when, over the loudspeakers, they played a song by The Roots. How appropriate: I graduated from Temple Law in North Philly and they were playing a song by Philly's very own hip-hop leaders, The Roots. Everything seemed just right at that moment, as I sipped on my Angkor beer, listening to "The Seed (2.0)", a great song that you can enjoy right now by clicking HERE (I couldn't find any videos that I could embed directly onto this website).
Volleyball. It seemed that everywhere we went in Cambodia (which was admittedly limited to just the town of Siem Reap and then the road from there to the border town of Poipet), we saw games of volleyball being played. When we first arrived in Siem Reap, we took a walk around town. After crossing a bridge to the other side of the river, we saw a spirited game of volleyball being played. And then on the day we took a taxi to the border (to eventually return to Bangkok), I saw at least two games of volleyball being played out in the Cambodian countryside. It made me wonder how the Cambodian Olympic volleyball team fared in Beijing.
Asian tourists. In my previous trips to Central America, Europe, and Egypt, the great majority of fellow travelers (not that kind, silly) were Europeans. On this trip, it was quite different. Most of the tourists generally -- as opposed to the subgroup of backpackers -- were Asian: from my estimation, they were mostly Korean and Japanese. Of course among the backpacker crowd, the travelers were almost entirely "white," but even here a slim majority may have been Australian as opposed to European. One look at the map or a globe explains this phenomenon. Nevertheless, it was a new experience for me. As a final sidenote, I can count on one hand the number of Americans (i.e., from the USA) that we met on the entire trip. I guess the typical American tourists were all in Cancun or other Americanized neo-colonies: too scared, narrow-minded, or culturally conservative to step outside of their own culture.
Bangkok sidewalks. The transformation of the sidewalks of Bangkok over the course of a night is quite striking. In the normal hours of the night, up to midnight or 1am let's say, the sidewalks are characterized by streetside vendors selling souvenirs, t-shirts, and handicrafts. Besides that, there are handfuls of prostitutes on each block, just standing around waiting to be picked up by middle-aged white guys with lots of American dollars in their wallets. After 1am or 2am, though, as we realized when we took a cab at 4am to get to the airport, the sidewalks turn into a nocturnal, and much rougher-around-the-edges, version of Paris: by that I mean that there are lots of people still out drinking beers and smoking at tables all along the sidewalks. Believe me, this was more than just a couple of tables on one block; this was many tables block after block after block. By virtue of staying active throughout the nighttime hours, Bangkok must be classified as a world city.
Same Same But Different. That was a common phrase that we heard throughout all three countries of our trip. It was used in every situation imaginable. For example, you would ask if a certain dish tasted similar to pad thai, and the waiter would respond, "same same but different." It was funny, but vexing. But the phrase was so common that everywhere we went we saw t-shirts announcing it: "Same Same" on the front, "But Different" on the back. If you look closely, the girl on the right in this photo is wearing the t-shirt:
Prostitution. I guess it should come as no surprise that prostitution was prevalent where there were older, relatively wealthy tourists -- thus, in Bangkok and in Siem Reap, Cambodia. Although I have to admit that some of the prostitutes were quite pleasing to the eye, it didn't take long for me to feel disgusted by the whole scene: rich white guys basically "buying" companionship and sex from young women. But hey, that's capitalism, right? Money talks. I felt pity for most of these guys, who back home probably have no chance to get a beautiful woman. So can I blame them? Yes and no. And I pity the women too, because I wonder how many of them are pursuing any worthwhile goals, like education or an eventual career, while they sell their bodies; probably not too many, unfortunately. The whole situation is just shitty. I also thought of another byproduct: how many beautiful girls in Bangkok -- who are legitimately not prostitutes -- are eyeballed and objectified by old white guys who jump to the conclusion that they must be a whore because they're young and beautiful? Terrible, really terrible.
Ladyboys. Well, as long as we're talking about the openness of sex in parts of southeast Asia, we may as well talk about the openness of sexuality too. This is one thing that I felt was refreshing. For those not in the know, "ladyboys" are basically southeast Asian transvestites: men dressing like and adopting the mannerisms of women. Don't get me wrong, coming from a comparatively sexually-conservative culture like that of the United States, it was a bit weird to see the ladyboys. Here in Philly, it's easy enough to walk down to the Gayborhood and you can see all the transvestites that you'd like. But that's the big difference: here in the U.S. the places that sexual expressiveness is culturally acceptable are quite limited and the boundaries are clear; they're kinda like modern-day ghettoes (in the Jewish sense of the word). In southeast Asia, though, you could see a ladyboy anywhere. For example, the receptionist at our hotel on our first morning in Bangkok was quite androgenous; we really couldn't figure out that person's gender at all. And this openness of sexual expressiveness, without boundaries, was noticeable throughout much of our trip. Being the fan of freedom that I am, I found this facet of southeast Asian culture to be very refreshing and quite advanced of our culture in the United States.
French legacy. Continuing with my smooth segues, I'll dovetail off that last comment about culture in the United States with an observation of the cultural legacy of southeast Asia. In Laos and Cambodia particularly -- formerly colonized by the French -- you can see the lasting influence of French culture. Baguettes and crepes are common. Restaurants have French names. And not only that, but outdoor seating at bistro tables is widespread. And for the first time in my travels, I met a traveler who was French; her name was Anne-Sarah and she was studying law at a university in Can Tho, Vietnam. She was traveling with a group of fellow French students to Vang Vieng and Vientiane. Although the international lingua franca is now most definitely English, it seems that the French enjoy visiting areas that remind them, even a little bit, of home.
Backpacker circuit. Paul and I followed an itinerary that can be described as a big oval: from Bangkok, north to Chiang Mai, east to Luang Prabang, then south to Vang Vieng, Vientiane, Savannakhet, and Pakse, then southwest to Siem Reap, then west back to Bangkok. On the map it makes the most sense to follow this route, especially if doing most of it overland: by bus or train. And apparently we were not the only ones with this approach. When we were in Siem Reap, a girl came up to me at Temple Bar and told me that she remembered seeing me back in Chiang Mai. And from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, we hung out with our Aussie friends, Nick and Josh, and our English friends, John and his girlfriend Jenny. And lastly, the French girl, Anne-Sarah, and her friends were on our minibus from Luang Prabang to Vang Vieng, and I spent the entire 4-5 hour bus ride from Vang Vieng to Vientiane sitting next to and chatting with Anne-Sarah. The point is that, in southeast Asia, there is definitely a well-worn path which backpackers follow, what I called the "backpacker circuit."
Philly at Angkor Wat. Walking through one of the many temples at Angkor, I saw a Cambodian artist sitting on a rock, painting a picture; he was wearing a Philadelphia Eagles hat. I pointed it out to him and said "I'm from Philadelphia." His response was simply "godson", in the speech of a deaf man. I said, "ahh, your godson lives in Philadelphia," and he nodded his head. Later, as we were about to walk up the long and steep climb to the top of the tallest hill in the area -- where we were gonna watch the sunset -- I saw a guy in his early-20s wearing a red baseball cap. I was almost sure what it was, but I walked closer. Yup, it was a Phillies cap! So I approached him and said, "Phillies!" We talked for a few minutes. He asked me what it was like on the streets of Philadelphia when the Phillies won the World Series, he said he missed it because he was already in southeast Asia, I told him that it was mass joyful chaos, and I described the scene from Market Street and along Broad Street from that night. The guy said he lived in Northeast Philly. It was cool to see -- not once, but twice in one day -- Philadelphia being represented halfway around the world. Three cheers for the Two-Fifteen!
The Roots. Finally, speaking of Philly represent, I was at Temple Bar in Siem Reap when, over the loudspeakers, they played a song by The Roots. How appropriate: I graduated from Temple Law in North Philly and they were playing a song by Philly's very own hip-hop leaders, The Roots. Everything seemed just right at that moment, as I sipped on my Angkor beer, listening to "The Seed (2.0)", a great song that you can enjoy right now by clicking HERE (I couldn't find any videos that I could embed directly onto this website).
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